Unnoticable
by Quillam
Summary: The Brotherhood raids a government facility for new recruits to the hopefully soon growing army of mutants. Magneto has a master plan, and Toad thinks all these new mutants will mean nothing good for The Cause.
1. The Strange Man's Arrival

The rain was falling heavily on the pavement outside the large building. It was a fairly bland building; it looked like a block of concrete, dark gray in the rain. A few trees hung their branches low to the ground outside it, doing nothing to improve the general look of the place. A few windows broke the stretch of concrete wall, a halo of yellow light surrounding them. Behind the glass vague shadows moved, some seeming to pass by them regularly. They were in fact regular as clockwork, as the person watching them noted down into a cell phone. Every fifth minute, it seemed. Time would be short.

Surveillance cameras dotted the walls, considerably more frequently than the windows. They spun occasionally, seemingly at random. They would be hard to predict. One of the cameras stopped spinning, as a strange substance hit it. After a few seconds, a small red dot on its side lit up, and an alarm began to howl. It was fairly quiet, the sound only barely escaping the walls, but the spotlights suddenly flooding the road and grounds were more easily noticed. It did not matter. The person who had set it off had long since disappeared into the darkness further down the road.

Inside the building emotions were mixed. Some people were frightened, some angry, some hopeful and yet others too heavily medicated to notice the noise. People were called, more medications were handed out, and neurotransmitters were blocked. For most of the inhabitants of the building, it was a night like any other.

.

On a remote island plans were being laid.

"Why," a calm voice inquired, "would you set off their alarms? Is this part of some plan of yours to which we are not privy?"

The calmness of his voice was the worst part, Mortimer thought. How even when he was fuming with rage he sounded as controlled and serene as if he were at a tea party, asking professor Xavier whether he preferred Earl Grey or Darjeeling. It was uncanny.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time?" he said hopefully. Eric raised a questioning eyebrow.

"It did! Fit the atmosphere of the prologue. Anyway, s'not like I left a bleedin' business card. They jus' know someone's comin', is all. Can't blue over there sneak in as a safety inspector or somefin'?"

"I do not believe _blue_ can do that, as she is the one intercepting the meditransport, or has the entire plan escaped your tiny amphibian mind?"

He had a way of making good points like that. But it had seemed like a fun thing to do at the time. Curses. He knew he should have worked sober. He just looked up at the old man from his crouching position on the chair. Eric looked at him, a feeling of disappointment and a strange mix of wrath and benevolence radiating from his eyes. In the end, though, he just waved him of. Mortimer happily hopped out the door. He was glad he was useful enough for Eric to not bother punishing him. Must be something to do with being the only one knowing how to fix the currently broken helicopter. He grinned, and made his way to the hangar.

.

"Ready for the tests of the day, then?"

The same voice as always. The same ridiculously reflective glasses glancing briefly at her over a clipboard. A morning like any other.

"You say that like there's an alternative, mister," she said. It was her usual response to his usual question. There was not that much to talk about. Every relevant topic had long since gotten old.

"I don't see what you get out of these tests anymore, anyway. I mean, the same questions, the same fMRI tests, the same everything…"

She sat down, anyway, holding her arm out obediently and wincing a little at the prick of the needle. She was still not quite comfortable with the needles. She had assumed they would hurt less after a while, but no such luck. She had asked the man about it at one time. She couldn't remember his answer, it had been science-y and complicated, and she had been drugged up, as usual. It was probably stupid. Shaking her head, she began concentrating on the task at hand, and her hand disappeared, along with the rest of her. So, for that matter, did the linoleum. They should have given her socks.

.

Toad sat slumped in the cockpit, thumbing through some old magazine he found lying on the floor. It was boring. He was bored. What kind of job was it, anyway? "Guard the plane"? He was sure this was some stupid revenge from Magneto for having alerted the facility to their impending presence last week. He had felt like kicking some ass. Had been a long time since any decent job with guards he could take out. He liked taking out guards. They made a nice crunching sound. He sighed audibly, and checked his watch again. Still about two hours until anyone would be showing up. Gods, this was dull. He considered briefly leaving the plane and finding something more fun to do, but he had a feeling Ol' Erik had some means or other of keeping track of whether he wandered off. He had a feeling he ought to stay.

A weak buzzing sound distracted him, and he spent a few minutes chasing a particularly evasive fly around the plane. It crunched satisfyingly, at last. He looked around, in a vague hope that something interesting would turn up. Nothing did. He didn't like this plane. Or planes, really. He preferred the helicopter, but no, for this mission they needed the plane, Magneto said. He had questioned the old man about where they possibly could discreetly hide a plane, and Magneto in turn had asked him whether he thought he could shove 15 people in the helicopter. Toad had suggested stacking them on top of each other. The master of magnetism had not been convinced.

The mission was to break into some low budget government facility where they allegedly kept a dozen or so mutants locked up. Apparently they tested them, or extracted their DNA or something. He hadn't been paying too much attention. It was part of Magneto's new plan. They needed more mutants, _individuals of more diverse abilities and aptitudes_, as Magneto put it. Toad disliked the idea. The three other people in the Brotherhood had been difficult enough to get along with, and that was when they were four people sharing a decent size island. What they would do if they suddenly became nearly twenty he did not know, but he predicted it would not be nice. He had argued this. Had pointed out that these people would be broken by drugs and not fit to fight the right fight. Apparently his opinion was not relevant. It never was, Mystique was the only one who ever did have any influence on him. Though he would definitely not go to the lengths she did to get that influence. It was disgusting, really, Magneto was what, two hundred years old? Disgusting.

Bored with staring at nothing he hopped back to the cockpit and curled up in a chair, deciding that he could probably guard the plane just as well in his sleep.

Author's Note: God, it's been years since last I wrote fanfiction. Forgive me if I'm a bit out of it, and if I fail at excuses to put people on the island. Been a long time since I wrote anything story-like, too. Hope I'm not too rusty. I guess I'll get more into it as I go along. Not quite certain when it comes to writing Toad's accent. I'm probably overdoing it. It will adjust. And the temporary title is temporary.


	2. In Transit

Chapter two:

Claudia felt weird. Jittery, full of energy, for some reason. It was a while since she had felt like this. She had an odd urge to do something. Wandering around her room, she wondered what she could do with this energy. Not a lot. It was a terribly dull room; white floor, tan walls, a bed, a bedside table and that was it. But really, what could one expect after being randomly kidnapped by the government. They had picked her up mere hours after her powers first manifested. She'd been impressed with their efficiency. Though it did make her wonder, if they could find someone that fast after they got their powers, how come she had only seen about a dozen others there? Not that she had been allowed to meet them, but after a while you were bound to accidentally meet someone you were not supposed to. She sat down on the bed again, but couldn't stay there for long. She paced the room again, now with more determination. What she was determined to do, she did not know, but it felt like something.

It had been two hours since her last meal, which she was fairly sure had been a dinner, and it struck her that she should have been sleeping. The little pink pills ought to have made sure of that. She frowned. Maybe some new worker had gotten her medicine mixed with someone else's? But then, no one got anything but sedatives with their dinners. Maybe someone- Her train of thought was broken by a terrible howling sound. The alarm. It was probably a false alarm, like two weeks ago. The workers had panicked, but nothing had happened. At least she thought so. The sound of gunfire coming from the floor below did, however, seem to disagree with her hypothesis. She crouched by the door, waiting for someone to enter.

She was out of breath after a mere minute of running. Exercise for the inmates was not a priority. She had been right, someone had come to give her an extra dose of medication, but they had evidently not expected her to be awake and relatively alert. She had tripped them, and run. She didn't know if they were following her. Panting, she stopped for a moment and looked around. She should have run into someone by now. There were plenty of guards in the facility, she knew that. And with the alarm still painfully loud in her ears, they should be everywhere. She peered around suspiciously. Maybe this was some kind of new experiment? Maybe they were testing the safety systems by letting the inmates escape? But letting mutants run wildly around in the halls with few enough drugs in them to let them use their powers? It seemed a risky experiment, in that case. Or maybe they were testing some airborne drug. It did smell a lot worse than usual. She shook her head. Now was not the time for analyzing the motives of evidently mad scientists, now was the time for running for the exit and hoping the best. And, slipping out of the visible specter of light, she did just that.

.

The communicator in Toad's ear buzzed three times before it registered with his sleeping brain. The fourth buzz seemed angry. Pressing the button to open the line, he mumbled a sleepy "Yeah?" into the mouth piece. The voice that replied sounded sophisticated even through the loud static.

"They were expecting us; your presence did evidently not go as unnoticed as you imagined."

A flash of guilt made its was through Toad's brain. He grimaced at the inside of the cockpit, not quite sure how to respond. Magneto did not let him try.

"There is only one human in the building. We are getting out, hopefully with some of the targets, but get the jet here now, Toad."

.

After the first two floors down, Claudia realized she was going in the wrong direction. She had never been taken anywhere by the stairs, just by an elevator with the floors written in binary code. She had at the time wondered why they went to such ridiculous steps to keep her from orienting herself. Well, she wondered no more. She had a vague idea about the layout of the floors, enough to know that the outer corridors had windows, but she could see none here. Evidently she was under ground. She found this odd, she had always imagined her room as being on the first floor. Maybe because she preferred it that way. It had been like that at home…

The sound of running feet shook her from her thoughts. Instinctively, she hid behind a cabinet, peeking her head out to see who was approaching. Instead of the white clad guards she had expected, she saw a quartet of very peculiar individuals; a red headed, blue skinned naked woman; a huge, hairy man clad in what appeared to be an impressive collection of dead animals; a distinguished looking old man in a helmet and cape, who floated, rather than ran; and a confused looking teenage boy in clothes similar to her own, down to the little blue numbered bracelet. He was being dragged by the large, feral looking man, and did not look too happy about it. The latter suddenly stopped, as they were approaching her, raising a massive hand. He seemed to sniff at the air. She frowned. It was not that long since she had showered.

The man let go of the teen's arm roughly, and started walking slowly towards her. She pressed herself against the wall, hoping that he would not notice her. She did realize that these might be the people giving her an opportunity to escape, but the man looked scary as hell, and the smell did nothing to recommend him, either. She let out a breath, and realized instantly that this was a mistake. A ridiculously large, clawed hand shot out before she had time to react, and violently grabbed her arm. How he managed to aim at invisible limbs she did not understand, but she was impressed. Or she would have been, if the claws digging into her skin had not distracted her. Distracted her enough, in fact, to make her lose the concentration she needed to stay out of sight.

"Another one?" the old man asked, in a tone of mild surprise. He smiled to himself. "Excellent, bring her along."

.

The jet was landed, close by the building. Far too close. Still, Toad had not seen anyone approaching, armed or not. It was suspicious, but then, it was not his job to investigate. It was, as Magneto had explained patiently, and with greater detail than necessary, his job to sit quietly, watch out, and generally be a good little pilot. He was not bitter, not at all. When his communicator buzzed again, telling him to open the hatch and be ready for take off, he was perfectly civil. And when they came onboard he did not even comment on the fact that they had no more than two new apparent recruits, he merely nodded, and obeyed. As the jet rose into the air he did ask, albeit in a polite tone, what the horrible smell was, other than Sabertooth. The larger mutant growled menacingly.

"Gas," replied Mystique, further explaining with "poison."

"The Friends of Humanity had noticed your little visit," Magneto said, as if giving him some trivial piece of information, and not blaming him for the relative failure of the mission. "And had helpfully filled the building with poison gas. I rather think they believed they could take us out that way. It's charming how simple minded homo sapiens can be sometimes."

.

Claudia spent the beginning of the flight being somewhat terrified. Also motion sick, but mostly terrified. She had no idea who these people were, though they evidently were mutants, and also appeared not to have any great respect for the law. She sat huddled in a seat, observing the four people who appeared to know each other. She would have tried to follow their conversation, but she felt rather shaken. The teenager who evidently had been a fellow inmate sat in a seat near her. He looked as is he was at least as nervous as she was, if not more. She wondered idly whether she had been rescued, or kidnapped. Or both. She had a feeling she might find out soon.

"Do you know who these people are?" the boy asked in a low voice.

"No clue. They don't seem to be wearing lab coats, though. I'm taking that as a good sign."

He laughed nervously. She studied him. He did not look like he could have been at the facility for a particularly long time. She could see his hair had been dyed not too long ago, an inch or two of brown roots showing amongst the blonde. He had a fairly handsome face, or she thought he would have, if he stopped looking so worried. That was not likely to change any time soon, though. He was wearing the same clothes as her, grey sweatpants with a plain gray t-shirt, but they looked newer than hers. Obviously he was a recent addition to the governments mutant collection. Or had been, anyway. It struck her that she was free. Well, possibly. She, at least, had new captors (liberators? She guessed she would find out), and she would never have to see that horrible little room again. It was a rather frightening thought, oddly enough. The place had, after all, been a home, of sorts, for her the last four years. A mistreating home that drugged her and did tests on her, granted, but no home was perfect.

"So… you turn invisible, huh?" The boy's voice brought her back to the present. She nodded absentmindedly. "Any other powers?"

"I can solve a rubix cube in 57 seconds. Otherwise, not much. What do you do?"

"I manipulate fire," the boy said, with some measure of pride. She heard a hint of an accent in his voice, like an Australian trying very hard to emulate American. Huh.

"What, you make it make shapes and stuff?"

"…Something like that, yes."

"Can you show me?"

The boy looked down, almost as if ashamed.

"Uhm… You haven't got a light, have you?" He looked around the plane, very deliberately not meeting her eyes, as if afraid of judgment. "I, uh, can't create the fire. Only control it…"

"Huh," she said, eloquently. "That sucks."

.

The landing was not particularly smooth, but not horrendous either. There was no point in the newbies getting to used to comfort. They would not find it a common commodity on the island. Sighing contentedly at a mission reasonably well done, he turned off the machinery, and followed the rest of the now expanded team out of the jet. He waited behind, taking in the appearance of the new recruits. There were indeed two of them, one teenage boy, and a girl who seemed to be a couple of years older. The boy had brownish blonde hair, brown eyes, and looked rather nervous. Toad was not sure he liked the look of him. The girl was very white. She had white hair, white skin, even her eyes were a pale gray. He suppressed a shudder. Albinos had always creeped him out. They were both wearing the same gray uniform. From the facility, he guessed. Neither of them looked too competent, but they would have to do. Maybe they would surprise him and have fantastic powers. He rather doubted it, but perhaps they could be trained to be useful. He found he was rather thankful that they had not been able to get as many new mutants as Magneto had hoped. These ones would be annoying enough.

Author's note: _I sincerely apologise if there are too many errors in this. Firstly, I don't have any beta, and I suck at reviewing my own texts. Secondly, tell me if I have to change the rating due to language. Thirdly, yes, I changed Pyro's arrival a bit, because I wanted to get a character I'm familiar enough with to write into the plot. Fourthly, the premise of this story is more how the Brotherhood exists in the movies, and will be quite unrelated to the plot. Liberty Island, for example, hasn't happened. (Yet?) Fifthly, I am going to expand the Brotherhood more, tell me if there are any characters you want me to use. Sixthly, there are lots of references, including the chapter titles. Just putting it out there. Seventhly, thanks for reading! /rant._


	3. Certain First Principles

When Claudia woke up, she found herself in what appeared to be a cell. The walls were dark and gray and rough, there were no windows, and the cot she was laying on was just a dilapidated mattress on the floor. She wondered vaguely if there were bugs in it. It seemed like the kind of place that would have bugs in the beds. She shuddered at the thought. Then, seeing as it was fairly cold, and the pajamas like uniform she was still wearing was not particularly warm, she shuddered at that too.

Last night, when they had landed on what appeared to be a desolate island somewhere in the middle of the ocean, they had been given a brief tour. It was the blue woman who had shown them around. Her name, she had told them, was Mystique. Claudia had been too intimidated to ask what kind of name that was. She had not found the courage to ask why was naked either. She had decided to assume there was a good reason for it. And whatever that reason was, John, as the boy she had talked to had introduced himself as, seemed to be quite happy about it. They had been shown corridor upon corridor of dank concrete, and a good number of empty, cell like rooms. They had been assured that they were not actually cells, but merely rooms for which there had yet to be a use. All facilities seemed to be very basic. It reminded her vaguely of her apartment the first three months she had lived there, before she had any possessions that made it her own. There had been a hangar, too, and a rudimentary kitchen, and a whole section that was apparently Magneto's private quarters.

Mystique had also explained to them who they were. As far as Claudia had grasped, they were a group fighting for mutant rights, and called themselves the Brotherhood (of Mutants). Mystique had seemed almost insulted that she had not heard of them, but Claudia, in her defense, pointed out that she had been locked up for four years. The group consisted, apparently, of Mystique; the large, feral man called Sabretooth; the old, dignified looking man called Magneto, who was the leader of the group, and the pilot she had not seen yet, with the charming name Toad. John had at that point dared ask what she had not; why everyone had such silly names. Mystique had, through clenched teeth, explained that the names given to them as children, often by human parents who had no idea who their mutated children would grow up to be, did not really reflect who they were. Also, she added, code names made a lot more sense to use when they were out on missions. Claudia had then wondered about the implications of letting ones powers define one as a person, instead of aspects like personality, goals or values, but had been interrupted further speeches upon the subject of the goal of the Brotherhood.

Later, after the tour of the island was finished, and Claudia's bare feet hurt like hell from walking around on the concrete floor, they were shown to their rooms. Mystique had assured them that they would be able to make these rooms more comfortable later. There seemed to be no question of whether they could choose to stay or not. It seemed a given, from the Brotherhood's point of view that they would want to stay and fight for the mutant cause. Claudia did not mind this, in particular. She had spent four years locked up, and any ties she had had to friends would be long broken. She assumed someone had declared her missing, presumed dead at some point. Suddenly returning to normal life would be difficult, especially when the government would probably try to get her back.

She had very few feelings regarding the mutant cause, though, which John had found weird when they had talked after the tour. It had been different for him, of course. He had manifested his powers a year or so before he was taken in. He had had a lot more time to get used to the idea of being a mutant out in society. She had been taken mere hours after turning invisible for the first time. Mutant rights and discrimination had never had time to become an issue for her. She could of course sympathize with it; being an albino was not quite up there with being a mutant, but it did mark one as decidedly different. She knew the feeling of weird looks. But she had never followed the politics around mutants particularly closely, something John had seemed to resent her for, somehow. She had not asked about it.

.

She did not know for quite how long she sat on the possibly bugged - in many ways, she supposed- mattress. She considered leaving the room, but that seemed, somehow, a breach of trust. She did not know why she should trust these people, or why they should trust her. Well, there was the fact that she could not get off their island, but apart from that, not much. Despite what Mystique had told them yesterday, she was not quite sure just what it was that was expected of her. To stay with the Brotherhood and fight the humans? She had been a perfectly normal human being up until four years ago. A somewhat different looking human, but a normal human nevertheless. Was she supposed to suddenly regard the humans as an enemy, after having been one for most of her life? That was not true, though, she supposed. Not quite. She had never quite fitted in with other humans, but surely that feeling was common amongst both humans and mutants? She did not understand it. She supposed she would, if she were to try to go back to her normal life. And she supposed she would hear a pep talk about it, at some point. She shrugged to herself.

"Havin' an interestin' conversation with yourself, there?"

The voice startled her. She whipped her head around, and saw a man standing in the doorway. He was not a particularly tall man, something not helped by his slouching. His skin was an ocher green, with occasional patches of brown. The green continued, albeit in a more pure form, in his hair, which was short and spiky. The clothes he wore were were dark, and shades of gray, and he was holding a bundle of dark cloth. He tossed it at her. She reflexively tried to catch it, and succeeded with her face. He snickered.

"Mystique said y'might like some clothes."

"Thanks," she mumbled, laying the clothes out on the bed. It appeared to be a black t-shirt and dark pants of a nondescript colour. And also socks. She noticed that it looked like someone had scribbled a tiny B in a circle in white paint on both articles of clothing. A tiny grin crossed her face. Real looked to the doorway again. Toad, as she assumed this man was, was still standing there, arms crossed and looking expectantly at her.

"What?"

"Well, get dressed, Magneto wants ta see you newbies. Wants to test you, or somefin'."

She looked pointedly at him, expecting him to leave the room, and possibly also close the door. He looked straight back at her. She narrowed her eyes. He raised his eyebrows, not moving. She sighed, gave up, and let her body slip into invisibility. Toad's face fell slightly, and he muttered something about cheating before wandering out of the room. She heard him a few seconds later speaking to John.

Taking of that accursed uniform was fantastic. She had worn nothing but variations of that for four years, and to have something else, even if it was rather similar, was wonderful. It did smell a bit weird, though. She walked out into the corridor, and saw John coming out of his room. He had been given something similar to her clothes, and the similarities between the Brotherhood and the government, at least in the clothing department briefly crossed her mind. She and John followed Toad through several corridors, all dank and grimy. She noticed something strange about his walk. It was forced, somehow, like he would rather move in a different manner. Maybe it was related to his mutation? Because other than the greenish colour, and his freakishly large and golden eyes, she couldn't see where he got his name from. Maybe he hopped around or something. That would be a fairly unimpressive mutant power, though. It was probably cooler than it sounded.

.

They were brought before Magneto some time after that. The members of the Brotherhood treated him with respect, occasionally seeming to border on fear, she noticed. He must be a great leader indeed. Or possibly just terrifying. She could see where they were coming from. He rather like a somewhat frail old man, but he held himself like a king. He spoke with the quiet authority of someone who knows no one would ever dare question them, much less disobey. But on the bright side, no white lab coat. Hopefully not that many syringes, either. He asked them to introduce themselves, but seemed disappointed when they both gave him seemingly normal and _human_ names. He reasoned aloud that given time they would probably find their true names. To Claudia this sounded a bit silly and pretentious, but out of the goodness of her heart, she let the rather intimidating old man who probably had awesome powers finish. He also asked them what their powers and abilities were, and how long they had been at the government facility, and so on. He seemed rather to be confirming suspicions, than really asking. The last thing he told them was that they were to be tested. They were assured that this was a procedure everyone had to go through in the process of joining the Brotherhood, but Claudia noticed Toad shaking his head behind the old man's back. Her expression migrated from curiosity to vague worry.

They were showed into a large room that looked like the love child of a gym and a battle ground. It was rectangular and spacious, with various training equipment thrown in a pile in one corner of the room. I a different corner lay a piece of metal twisted almost beyond recognition, but it looked like it could have started its life as a basket ball hoop. The walls and floor were dirty, and had several cracks that looked scarily unnatural in what she assumed was solid concrete. There were dried patches of what she hoped was not blood several places, and a shoe lay near the center of the room, cut into pieces. It looked ominous. She looked over at John. He too looked worried.

"This test is an easy one," Magneto intoned, his voice serious. "You simply have to get past two of us and get to the other side of the room, using your powers."

Sabretooth and Toad stepped into the center of the room, both looking somewhat sadistic. John frowned.

"Can I have a lighter?" he asked.

"Whatever for, dear boy?" Magneto's expression emulated genuine sympathy rather well, as did his tone.

"Well, I can't use my powers without an open flame. You can't test my powers if you won't let me use them," he explained. Magneto frowned, a seemingly puzzled expression crossing his face, hinting at the amusement below.

"Surely you must realise that in the field no one will just give you what you ask for or accommodate the lackings of your abilities?"

Realization seemed to strike John, then, followed quickly by worry and a glance at the two mutants he was facing.

"But- but that's not fair," he argued feebly, although he seemed to understand. His eyes narrowed in less than happy determination. Claudia grinned.

"Sucker."

Author's note: I was originally going to put the rest of the last scene in this chapter too, but I think it deserves its own chapter, which is a fancy way of saying I'm having a really hard time writing it in any way that makes sense. But by publishing this chapter I now have no choice but to write it. On a different note, I'm glad to see there are quite a few people who have read this. I would love to know what you think, though, not just that you think. Peace out. But not literally.


	4. The Plan That Failed

It felt like a battle theme music should start playing, but it didn't. No epic music ensuring a mostly happy ending, just the sound of heavy, nervous breathing, and a snarling sound from Sabretooth. When Magneto rapidly realized that the newcomers weren't going to make the first move, he made a hand gesture. It was just a small gesture, but Toad and Sabretooth seemed to know exactly what it meant, and charged.

Sabretooth, it appeared, was heading towards John, which was fine with Claudia. She had a plan. Maybe. Letting herself become invisible, she moved towards Toad, hoping he didn't have any fancy way to tell where she was, like Sabretooth did. She wasn't quite prepared for the sight of Toad's impossibly long tongue shooting out of his mouth against her and wrapping itself around her torso. That was unexpected. The words "Oh my gear god, eeewwwww" shot through her head. Luckily, he only had one of her arms pinned, and as he lifted her -still with his tongue, still oh so disgusting- closer to himself, a plan appeared in her mind. The unpleasant and unexpected sensation was however enough to make her lose her concentration, and by the time she was more or less face to face with him, both faces were visible. She still did remembered something, though, something that might work.

She made a lucky guess, and stuck her hand into his jacket pocket, fumbled for half a second, and closed her fingers around a tiny rectangle. And before Toad had quite grasped what she was attempting to do, and what on earth her hand was doing inside his pocket, she tossed the lighter over to John. He, amazingly, was alert enough to catch it out of the air. He barely managed to dodge a punch from the furry Sabretooth, and clicked open the lighter to reveal a tiny flame. He grinned, and a sudden, and, by the confused, dog like look on Sabretooth's face, unexpected fireball.

"Stupid bitch," Toad muttered at Claudia, with a look of repressed amusement. He pushed her against the wall, and a look of revulsion appeared on her face as he spat some kind of disgusting gooey mass at her hands. It seemed to harden ridiculously fast, and she found herself unable to move her hands. She was just about to shout at John that he had to get her out of this stuff, when Toad seemed to have the same idea, and she shortly found her lower face completely encased in the hard, foul smelling goo. The man must have horrible breath, she reasoned. She also reasoned that she was incredibly lucky not to have had time to open her mouth to shout.

John was doing fairly well with Sabretooth, she observed from her position on the wall. Although the more feral man seemed to cope well with the fireballs frequently thrown at his face, John was managing to keep him out of punching reach. She noticed, also, that the burns on the larger man's face healed within seconds. Damn, that was cool. She noticed ,too, that John seemed to be getting tired. His flaming bursts seemed smaller, and he was not alert enough to avoid Toad's tongue wrapping around the lighter in his hand and ripping it away.

"Hey!" he shouted halfheartedly, before a final punch from Sabretooth knocked him to the ground. Suddenly the large room was very silent. It lasted a few moments, and then came a clapping sound.

"Well done, you two might actually have some potential," Magneto said, his face a mixture of surprised and pleased. "You will start training soon. The human menace is not resting, and neither should we be. Toad, help them get more properly settled in. And take better care of your possessions next time." This last was said with a somewhat stern look. He left the room, and Sabretooth followed him, snarling viciously at John, who flinched where he sat.

"Oi, get up and follow me," Toad said to John, and started walking towards the exit. John did as told, and neither of them seemed to remember Claudia. She tried to shout, but the muffled sounds came out too low, even to her own ears. She tried kicking the wall behind her. It made her feet hurt – she hoped someone would give her some shoes soon –. It didn't make any sound, either. Were they really going to just leave her here? Did this stuff ever crack? How the hell was she going to get loose? She was getting mildly claustrophobic, and was immensely relieved when Toad walked back into the room.

"Forgo' ya there," he said, with a grin. "Sorry, luv, but you're a bit 'ard to notice."

She narrowed her eyes. He chuckled, and with two light punches cracked the greenish goo encasing her hands. Some of the green goo still looked clung disgustingly to her hands. She tried brushing it off, but her hands seemed numb, and just sort of flopped around a bit.

"'S a numbing agent. More fun tha' way. An' I think tha'" he indicated the goo on her face, "will stay."

She tried saying something angry in protest, and when his only response was looking far too pleased with himself she tried clawing at the stuff. It didn't work. Her hands were still too numb for her to do anything, and she suspected the goo wouldn't come off until he told it to. Or something.

"Now c'mon, the tiny pyromaniac's waitin'"

.

The green stuff did come off, but it had taken an hour. And when it did, it happened so suddenly that she accidentally swallowed some tiny green cracked pieces and she wanted to puke. It didn't happen. Nothing happened. Magneto's idea of getting "properly settled in" was to give them some sheets – she didn't think hers had ever been washed – and a bottle of water. She had stared at Toad when he dumped the things on the floor, but she had still been to muted to actually ask him anything at that point. When she had regained her full power of speech, and discovered upon drinking her water that she had been incredibly thirsty, her stomach growled.

Fifteen minutes later she was walking down a corridor. It was similar to all the other corridors she walked down so far; gray and dark, lit by occasional single light bulbs. They were also all eerily quiet. The whole place was grossly oversized compared to its population. But then again, someone had mentioned that they had hoped to free about a dozen more mutants from the government on the day. And Magneto seemed to want to slowly collect an army. A mutant army. She wasn't sure if a minority this small, even with superpowers, stood a good chance against the humans, but then, who was she to judge? Magneto probably knew what he was doing. After all, he did lead these three individuals. Although, they did seem to be individuals who would be hard to lead, she would give him that. But his helmet looked stupid.

She wondered where John was. They had talked briefly. Neither of them fully knew what to expect, nor what was expected of them. Also; neither knew where they could find food. True enough, they had been shown the kitchen, briefly, the night before, but they had no idea where it was. All the corridors were similar, the layout made no sense, and Magneto had not even had the courtesy to put up signs. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, she would be allowed to. But if she did stay that long she would probably know the place by heart.

Another five minutes of wandering later she had come upon what seemed to be a sort of living room, if one had those in giant island headquarters. Probably. Someone seemed to live there, anyhow. There was a small television in the room, which was turned on, but only showed static. A table stood between the television and a large, tired looking couch. The table was covered with a mixture of old candy wrappers, empty beer bottles, dirty dishes, some of which were moldy, and a few quite dodgy looking magazines. The couch was covered with a sleeping Toad. He looked less disgusting, she noticed, when asleep. Just discoloured. Not that she had much of a moral high ground when it came to that. He was still wearing the heavy, weatherproof looking jacket, she noticed. That was odd. She wandered over to a book case behind the table. Most of the books in there seemed to be science-y type works on mutants and genetics, and some that looked slightly more accessible, like _Mutants: a Minority in Change_ by a M. Mactaggert. Aside from the cheesy title it looked interesting. Maybe it would be better to learn more of the social stigma of mutation from books rather than experience. She grabbed the book, but it seemed stuck. She wondered if she was really that weak. She attempted to remove it again, this time achieving something, at least. The book did not come loose, but the entire book case swung out – she had to jump backwards to avoid being hit in the face – revealing a short corridor leading up to a steal door. She began to wonder whether Magneto really was just a cheesy super villain from a bad comic book. The opening of the book case door had made quite a lot of sound, so she shouldn't have been as surprised as she was to hear an annoyed voice from behind her.

"Oi, the hell ya think you're doin' with tha'?"

She whirled around, eyes wide with surprise rather than guilt.

"I was just getting a book, I didn't know it was a door!"

Toad looked at her, head cocked to one side, blotchy, oversized eyes narrowing. He drew himself halfway up in a sitting position.

"Course it is. Magneto likes tha' stuff. Finks it's classy or somefin'," he said, yawning. "Lucky of ya t'find the right book, though. Wot ya doin' with them books, anyway? Fuckin' boring the lot of 'em."

"Thought I'd read up on anti-mutant prejudice. Never really experienced it, myself. Never really read about it either. As a human I didn't see the point."

"As a human? You've always been a mutant, luv."

"Didn't know I was. Same thing. You know, for a group that fights for mutant rights, or mutant supremacy or whatever, you guys really don't know how little humans care about mutants. I don't think I'd even met one before I, well, before I realized I was one."

"Then you've obviously no' met the same humans as me," he answered bitterly. He stared angrily at a point a foot left of her shoulder, looking rather as if he would like to strangle it. A silence spread, then, wherein his expression softened some, and his tone was rather neutral, bordering on amicable when he spoke again after a minute or two.

"By the way, I meant t'ask, how'd ya know I 'ad a lighter?"

"Clothes you gave me smelled like cigarettes. T'was elementary,"

she said, trying and failing to emulate a posh British accent. Toad did not look particularly amused. His voice seemed suddenly more hostile, again.

"Wot ya still doin' here, anyway? I'd appriciate it if ya would read somewhere I'm no' sleepin'."

"Oh, right, I'm sorry. I – I was looking for the kitchen, we kinda haven't been given any food since we got here... Fourteen hours ago..."

"Third corridor on the left, second right, then follow the smell. Now bugger off so I can 'ave a sleep."

.

When she found the kitchen on her third attempt, she found John waiting for her. Or rather, she found him eating something that smelled unnervingly good for looking so disgusting.

"Wha' 'ook 'ou so loh?," he asked, voice muffled by a mouth full of food.

"Talked to Toad. He didn't give the best of directions. And what on earth _is_ that you're eating?"

"Noodles in curry with ketchup," he said. She made a disgusted face. "What? I work with what I got, here!"

She shook her head in disgust, and began rummaging in the cupboards, trying to breathe through her mouth. She found noodles, curry, ketchup and mustard. She looked at the condiments in annoyance, then grabbed a packet of noodles.

"Considering this is an island, you'd think they'd have some seafood or something."

"Doesn't bother me. Feels like home," John said, shrugging, but with a hint of bitterness Claudia might have caught had she not been preoccupied with trying to find a clean pot.

"You," she said, fiddling with the heat, "must be terrible at housekeeping. But then, after the place we came from, anything would be good in comparison. Save the meals, I mean. I wonder if I can get them to fill that fridge with something other than beer."

"There's beer in the fridge?" John asked eagerly.

"...You didn't check the fridge for food?"

"Met Mystique. She said there was food in the cupboards. But how 'bout that beer?"

"If you're that excited about beer you aren't old enough to drink it."

Some minutes later, as Claudia was eating and pointedly drinking a beer, and John was pointedly looking sulky they begun talking about the Brotherhood. They had both come to the conclusion that they didn't really like anyone in it. Or, in all fairness, John said he thought Mystique seemed nice, and Claudia pointed out that this only was because she was naked. But none of the members seemed to be nice persons as such. They both found Sabretooth to be frightening, and they both thought Magneto was rather aloof and unnecessarily sophisticated. He reminded them both somewhat of the scientists the government employed; they had a plan for them, and they tested them, but they were never actually told neither the purpose nor nature of the tests. John thought Toad was disgusting, whereas Claudia, whilst agreeing that the spitting and tongue things were disgusting, was more annoyed with his seemingly random moodiness. John thought Mystique was the hottest thing since sliced bread, though he hadn't, he said, had time to ponder whether she had a likeable personality. Claudia found something subtly disturbing about her, an air of malice. And her voice was weird. There was that too. They concluded, in the end, that they would have to stick together, as the others were, probably, insane in some way.

Author's note: Remind me never to try writing a scene like that first one again. Difficult. Bad result. Regret. It's also the reason the chapter took ages. Also upped the rating. Swearing seems to me to be a natural thing for characters such as these. Also also wik, I noticed in one of the older chapters that I occasionally switch between English and American spelling. Sorry about that, I'll try to get better at being consistent.


	5. I Ran Out Of Chapter Titles To Rip Off

Training was hard here, she realized. It wasn't just the fact that she hadn't worked out in several years and had the muscles of a five year old girl. It couldn't be. No one could be meant to work this hard, surely. Wasn't the entire point of mutant abilities that you didn't have to work as hard as normal humans to be badass? Apparently, it was not. Just being invisible was definitely not enough to not get beaten up by Mystique, it seemed. Or Toad and Sabretooth on occasion, as well. She and John had to learn how to shoot, something she turned out to be spectacularly bad at, and how to fly a helicopter, which she was less awful at. John managed to almost crash the helicopter into the ocean at one point. Magneto was there for all the flying lessons, after that.

Vague hints had also been given concerning the purpose for their training, apart from the "for your own betterment as individuals" Magneto first had given them. He had, in passing, mentioned ideas about a mutant community, some sort of haven for the genetically different a little larger than some school he referred to. Claudia had wondered about this school he mentioned. Was there what, a mutant school? Did they teach you superpowers? And could she go there, because some superhuman strength and endurance seemed tempting at the moment. She decided she would have to ask someone about it.

She found an opportunity later that evening, when she ran into Toad in what passed for a kitchen. In a way, she was relieved. Even though he was antagonistic at the best of times, he still seemed the most approachable, and in a way most normal of the Brotherhood. He and Sabretooth both seemed a lot less aloof than Magneto and Mystique, but Toad had the advantage of not scaring her to death. Or at least, he did so in a different and slightly more subtle way. And he had less fangs and claws and other things normal mutant beings really shouldn't have.

"What school did Magneto mean?" she asked, seeing no reason to try anything but a direct question to break the somewhat awkward silence that had previously prevailed in the room. Toad looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"Not sure 'e's the man y'should be getting educational advice from, luv"

"What? No, I mean, I heard him talking about some grand plan about some mutant haven that he referred to as _bigger than his silly school_ or something? Is there some kind of secret mutant school where they teach you superpowers? 'Cause that'd be cool."

Toad looked at her for a minute, eyes narrowed. Then he burst out laughing. Claudia watched in bemusement, as his amusement at her ignorance slowly died down.

"A school where y'learn superpowers. That'd somefin', I agree. But nah. It's the X-Men, y'see, their headquarter's a school."

Claudia pondered for a moment. The name seemed somehow familiar. She seemed to have heard it on the news, or something. Something that Kelly man her roommate seemed to agree so much with had mentioned the name.

"X-Men... Sounds familiar. Weren't they a terrorist group or something?"

The expression on his face seemed to be one of both exasperation, annoyance and quite a bit of smug satisfaction.

"Sort of, yeah," he said, smiling at some joke she had yet to get. "They say they want mutant rights, like us, though. Seem to think they'll get it by bein' all nice to the humans, savin' 'em and things. Led by some bald bloke Magneto says 'e knows. They tend to try and sabotage our missions, for some reason. Calls us counterproductive. Idiots fink they can make a difference by bein' nice an' meek. Never worked for anyone, that."

"Oh," was the most articulate answer Claudia could give to that. Saving humans was bad now? She could see his point, though. The manic anti-mutant activists that she'd often heard about but never really paid any attention to would probably not be persuaded by a a few freaks with superpowers being nice now and again. She wondered what the actual plan for a mutant free haven Magneto actually had.

"So, what actual plan does Magneto have for this mutant free haven?"

"Mystique only knows," Toad said, leaning back in his chair. She flinched a little as his tongue shot out, and he used it to retrieve a beer from the fridge. He grinned at that. He did that a lot, she noticed. He seemed to try to freak her out, a lot. But then, if she had an extra limb that allowed her to pick up stuff four yards away without moving, she probably would too. It just looked so... Wrong. How did he even fit a 16 feet tongue in there? She looked at him quizzically.

"Mags, y'see, doesn't wanna give too much away to us. Says we might be a risk. In case we get caught on a mission, in case they got a telepath."

Claudia had no good reply to this, and instead busied herself with the complex and demanding task of making noodles. It was still the only edible thing she had found. She would complain, one day. One day when she felt a little more like a member of the team and a little less like an incompetent nuisance.

.

Toad wondered how Magneto planned to use the new ones. Sure, the boy had fire power, couldn't argue with that, and he had a lot of anger he would probably love to take out on humans. He didn't have any skill, though. Managed to almost sink a bloody helicopter. He wondered whether the boy wouldn't be more of a danger than a help on missions. He seemed like the type to attack before asking questions, even before being quite sure he knew who he was attacking. Too wild for any missions involving discretion or sneaking. But then, Magneto had managed to tame Sabretooth, he could probably knock some sense into the little pyromaniac, given time. The girl was another thing, though. Sneaking he didn't doubt she would be good at, was in her nature, after all. She seemed to be learning how to fly fairly well, too. He hadn't seen her crash yet, anyway. But she was fairly helpless in a fight. Didn't seem to know what to do when someone hit her. Had too easy a childhood, that one. Most mutants were forced to learn some sort of self defense, sooner or later.

"What sort of missions," she began, pausing for another mouthful of noodles, "do you do anyway?"

"Depends on wha' Magneto needs us doin'. Tryin' to get new recruits, at times, like when we got you two. Usually lookin' for more, though. Specially when the boss comes along."

She wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "That's all? That's your every mission, and with the two of us you're all of six?"

"Course no', you idiot. Anyway, the X-Men're very fond of stealin' our recruits. Even 'ad someone defect to 'em," he added bitterly. That had been an ...unfortunate affair. She had been such a talented girl, though she stubbornly refused to admit it. A shame Sabretooth couldn't tell, or possibly couldn't remember or care. It had been worryingly long before the healing factor had kicked in, afterwards. He claimed to have no memory of the affair. Magneto had lamented their lack of a telepath after that.

.

"I wish we could get a signal here. There has to be some mutant out there who has the power to always get a good signal... I wanna find that guy."

John was less than impressed with the TV's performance. It had been showing them static for the last twenty minutes, but John refused to give up. Claudia was on the sofa, waiting. She didn't have anything better to do. Apart from the training there really wasn't that much to do on the island. No internet, and all the books looked quite boring and academic. She had tried a few, but they all went into ridiculously complicated explanations of the biology of mutation. It didn't really interest her, not enough to spend the time trying to figure it out. And so, the television room was where she and John often ended up if no one else was there. John had, on occasion, gotten some kind of signal, and at one point they had caught five minutes of some horrifying reality show. They had, naturally, promptly changed the channel, which had caused the signal to go away again.

"Do you think they're training us to be terrorists?"

The question came quite suddenly. It was a lot more serious than most of things that came out of his mouth. She would have to think about that for quite a long-

"Yeah. Technically, at least. Old freedom fighter vs terrorist problem. But I guess that's what they- what _we_ are, really. We just also happen to be the more or less good guys. Ish."

John frowned, and seemed to think for a moment. Then he nodded, looking a bit dejected. They sat like that for a while, in silence. The TV kept showing static, yet John stared into it, lost in another world. He looked so young and innocent at times, far too much so to be a super powered terrorist in training. She knew he wasn't that many years younger than her, and probably not all that innocent either, though. From what she gathered gaining mutant powers made you grow up fast. The gods only knew what it must have been like for Mystique or Toad. Or did visual mutations begin at birth? She wasn't actually sure about that. She guessed it would be easier that way. Suddenly waking up blue and scaly would have to be fairly freaky.

Her ponderings on the subject of Mystique's childhood was interrupted by loud footsteps approaching. Sabretooth. She and John looked at each other, neither particularly eager to face the man. With an apologetic look she made herself invisible, and hurried out into the corridor, and from there in the opposite direction of the sound. A weak shout of "You bastard!" followed her. She knew, of course, full well that Sabretooth could smell her, but perhaps he wasn't paying attention. Or something. She couldn't quite grasp exactly how his superhuman sense of smell worked. Was it like sight? Was the smell of her movement as noticeable to him as the sight of her running out would have been had there been one? She would have to ask him, at some point when she was less convinced that would eat her if she did something wrong.

She wandered through a series of corridors after that. Sometimes life on the island felt like one of those TV sets where they keep using the same corridor over and over again, changing perhaps a detail or two to get away with it. It was quite confusing, but she had begun to get the hang of it. There was the corridor in which she and John guessed that Sabretooth's room was (it smelled of fur, with a slight aroma of undercooked meat), and the corridor with the training room, characterized by the faint odor of sweat and the cracks and holes in the concrete walls, in addition to the suspicious, dried brown flecks occasionally spattered around. There was the kitchen corridor, which smelt like a student's cupboard, and the corridor leading to the hangar, with the occasional oil pit on the floor and lots of boxes with strange contents which made odd, rattling sounds when you poked them. A lot of the place was identified by smell, she noticed. Must be easy for Sabretooth to navigate.

After what was probably a longer walk than necessary she wound up in her room. It was a little more hers, now. Mystique had found her some more clothes, normal clothes. Some of them weren't even black, just a sort of dull, indescribable browny gray colour. She had refused to tell her where they came from, and they were too short to have been hers. She wondered if they could have belonged to one of those deserters Toad had mentioned. It was a creepy thought. The room also had a few things in it, now. On the floor next to the mattress was a small stack of books. They were all a bit too dull and educational, but there were limits to how much one could sleep. A couple of water bottles stood in a corner, and she had managed, on a quest that took two days, to find a new light bulb for the ceiling ...light bulb. She picked up _On the Nature of Mutants volume VI: The Role of the Amygdala in Telepaths _ by a C.F. Xavier. She opened it and sighed. She had a feeling sleep would come easily.

.

"I need you to find someone for me. I need you to make him understand that he ought to consider joining us."

"Course. When ya want me t'leave?"

"Not yet, not quite yet. The matter isn't that urgent. I want you to take the girl with you. I would have suggested you take the boy as well, but I don't think he has the, ah, people skills for it yet. But I want you to make sure you think the girl can handle it before you leave. I do suggest you begin the mission within a week, though."

"As you wish, sir."

"You don't think she will be ready?"

"She might be. Who's the targ- the potential recruit? Wot's 'is tricks?"

"A Remy LeBeau. A Southern gentleman. Rather distinctive eyes; red on black. He channels kinetic energy into objects, making them somewhat explosive. I do believe he also is a quite capable thief, so keep your wallet safe. I want you to stake him out for a day or two, find out if Charles has sent any of his after the man. I should not think so, though. He doesn't seem quite obedient enough for my old friend."

"As you wish, sir."

A grin spread across Toad's face at the thought of a new chance to meet the X-Men. They were always good fun.

_Author's Note: D'you want me to continue having bits with Toad's POV? Am I writing them well enough to bother keeping those bits? Should there be more? These are the questions that plague me at night. _


	6. So I'll Call This Chapter 6

The clock had passed midnight by a few hours ago, but Claudia lay staring at the ceiling. It was, on the whole, not a very interesting ceiling. It was dark, and made of concrete and had a light bulb hanging from it. After hours of disinterested scrutiny, it had revealed no secrets. The light bulb was turned off, now, and the books she had appropriated for the purpose of boring herself to sleep lay in a disorganized heap by her mattress. None of them, dull as they were, had managed to send her to sleep. Instead, she now had a fuller understanding of the treatment of mutants in the renaissance. She closed her eyes again, and sighed heavily. There was a feeling of purposelessness here on the island, she thought. A vacuum of events. The days, though filled with both training and promises of a higher plan and purpose, seemed to lack a cert-

"Oi girlie, you awake?"

Opening her eyes, she turned to look at the door. She could have sworn it was closed a minute or two ago. And she definitely hadn't heard it being opened, it was quite noisy. Standing in the corridor outside was Toad, looking impatient. She sat up.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, come along then, we're off."

"Off where? Or possibly what?"

"T'see the bloody wizard. Jus' come on, I'll brief ya on the way."

Bewildered, she got up and followed him, pausing only briefly for shoes. She continued asking while hurrying after him, but got no satisfactory answer, just a not entirely polite admonition to shut the hell up and hurry. She did hurry, though, and two minutes later she was climbing into the helicopter, still in the dark.

.

"It's a recruitin' mission," Toad began in explanation. In response to her blank stare he added "Meanin' we're gonna find some bloke, spy on him a bit, and make him come join us."

"Is he going to get as much of a choice as us?"

Toad looked at her, eyes narrowed, yellow irises blotting out the whites completely. Again there was this sense of resentment in them. A sense that she wasn't, to him, a proper mutant. She guessed that it had something to do with her very brief experience of being one. Or possibly that she didn't look like a mutant. She wondered, then, how he felt towards Magneto on that account.

"For most o' us there ain't much of a choice. Did ya prefer the government cell, 'cos I can drop ya back off easy."

"No, no, this is good. I mean, working for the good of mutant kind and all. Very good for my conscience so far. But it would have been nice if you'd asked, you know, and hadn't just dragged me along in the same manner as the government did. Not that I'm making comparisons." She added defensively. It was beginning to dawn on her that the flight might be more pleasant and less dangerous if she shut up. Toad's expression confirmed this with an annoyed glance.

.

Toad found the flight awkward. Claudia would on occasion try to start conversations, but he invariably glared at her to stop. New people made him somewhat uncomfortable. It was fine back on the island, mostly. He'd gotten used to them being there, more or less. But there he could just wander off. He wasn't trapped with them in a tiny room, like now. Flying with Mystique and the others he'd gotten used to; it had been necessary. But they respected and shared his preference for silence. Claudia seemed to have picked up on that, though, and had settled down into a somewhat annoyed silence. She sat with her arms crossed, staring pointedly at nothing. He didn't understand why Magneto would send her with him on a mission like this. She wasn't particularly well trained, which could be a problem, but what worried him more was her attitude to the Brotherhood, and to mutants in general. She didn't seem to feel she was one of them. Granted, she had only been with the Brotherhood for a week and a half or so yet, but he didn't think she saw herself as a mutant at all. That was why, he suspected, he resented her. The boy at least seemed to know to some degree what society felt about their kind. Seemed to have lived through at least some of it. None of them quite knew how it felt to have been born this way, though. To look not only different, but blatantly inhuman, their whole lives. He smiled bitterly at nothing in particular. Nothing to really inspire you to bash in some homo sapien heads like seeing the disgust in strangers eyes when they first see your face. And the Brotherhood let you do that. Magneto understood the hatred they felt for humanity, and shared it, for different but analogous reasons. He let them use a little more violence than might be strictly necessary on missions, facilitated the occasional random, impulsive maiming of a guard or two. Toad didn't know whether he approved or not, but it had never seemed to bother him. And he did always say how they needed to be feared before they could ever be respected...

They arrived in the city in the early parts of the afternoon, the sun high and bright. That was inconvenient. Toad had hoped the forecast of dark clouds might be right, but the two months old newspapers he had checked back on the island had evidently lied to him. He walked slumped, hood pulled so far down over his face all he could see was the pavement. His gloved hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and he had wrapped a scarf around the lower part of his face. It was far too hot for it, but he hadn't the time to be assaulted by Friends of Humanity thugs. The girl had insisted on being invisible. Not only did she have extremely UV-sensitive skin and no sun lotion, she pointed out when he asked, but an albino and a man covered from head to toe in far too warm clothes might not be the most inconspicuous thing in the world. He was forced to agree with that, and so he walked apparently alone through the busy streets. The overwhelming noise and dense crowds of people made him somewhat uneasy, and he tried to avoid them, both for his sake, and so the invisible girl would have an easier time of it. They walked like that for a while, him looking for some suitably cheap and dingy place to stay, and her doing, well, he couldn't see what she was doing, but he assumed it involving walking and looking or something. After twenty minutes or so he spotted a place awful looking enough that they might not even mind mutant customers. He wouldn't take his chances, though.

.

"Explain to me again how an organization that can afford a jet and a private island can't get two rooms?"

"I told ya, t'lady looked at me suspiciously enough already, it woulda been weird if I asked for two rooms," he explained, rapidly running out of patience. It almost bothered him that she thought him disgusting enough to mind sharing a room with him that much. That was weird. He'd mostly gotten used to people's reactions. Was probably just because she was new and had fresh amounts of dislike for him. Mystique's telling expressions must have grown stale with time, he supposed.

"Besides, I got two beds, didn't I? Separate sides of the room an' all, ya won't even notice I'm 'ere."

He sat crouched on the table by the tiny, dirt encrusted window, looking wistfully at the dead flies on the window sill. He could've used a snack. The girl huffed, and sat down on the bed in the opposite corner.

"I'm surprised you're so picky about the 'commodations, anyway. Woulda thought everyfing'd be better than tha' prison."

She drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them to her, and looked down into the sheets as though they held some fascinating secret. She frowned, and her eyes glazed over slightly.

"You would think so, yeah," she said, more quietly, "but it'd surprise you how comfortable the standard issue beds are. The cleanliness is impeccable. And there's nothing to lull you to sleep quite like a nice, cozy injection. God, I must be going mad. That wasn't even sarcasm. I genuinely miss my bed there. Maybe they synthesized Stockholm syndrome and injected me with it."

She laughed, and then looked faintly sick. He gave her a look that, if she had seen it, might have indicated to her that he had some beginning doubts as to whether she was a sane and capable mutant being. She didn't, though, so he abandoned the look and concentrated on locating the tell tale buzzing of a fly he thought he could hear somewhere in the room.

"So," she began some minutes later, in the tone of one who is attempting to break an awkward silence, "you said earlier you'd tell me more about this guy we're, uh, recruiting?"

"Yeah. Some bloke called Remy LeBeau," he replied, utterly failing to pronounce it properly. "Magneto says 'e can do some nice tricks with, wha' was it again, kinetic energy or somefing. Make things blow up. 'Cording to the file Mags gave me, 'e's a thief. 'Angs round in bars in the city. Oh, an' apparently has red and black eyes. Oughta be easy to recognize."

"What do we do, then? Spend our time barhopping til we find a guy with freaky eyes and talk to him?"

"No. We spend our time bar'oppin' till we find a bloke with freaky eyes, and then you go all see through like an' follow 'im around till we know if the X-Men've gotten to 'im. Then we talk to 'im."

"Naturally, naturally. And how will we know if the X-Men have gotten to him?"

"We'll know, trust me. An' they'll probably attack us. They're a violent lot. Last time I met 'em, this one bloke nearly killed me cos I nicked 'is shades."

"Seriously? Dude," she said, impressed. Toad thought happily about the collection of Cyclops's visors he was building up back at the island. He had six of them, now. Maybe this trip would give him both a seventh and a new recruit.

"Hmm. If we're going to be barhopping, I'm going to need some new clothes. This," she said, indicating the clothes she was wearing with a sense of intense dislike, "won't do. I don't suppose our budget, whatever it might be, will cover that?"

Toad shook his head, both in reply and reaction.

"Then I'll have to test out invisible shop lifting. I'll be back in a hour or two."

"Whatever, just don' get arrested. I'm not breakin' ya out."

She got up, and went to open the door. It seemed to close behind thin air. Toad rolled his eyes at the door, and hopped onto the bed. Might as well get some sleep before starting the mission. He laid down, closed his eyes, and with expertly trained precision shot out his tongue and caught the fly that had finally made its way out of whatever closet it had hid in. It was nice and crunchy.

.

It was still hot outside, and sunny enough to burn her infinitely pale skin beyond recognition. Maybe she'd steal some sunscreen too. She couldn't always walk around like this. Moving through a crowd when no one can see is more difficult than it might appear. People are notoriously unmindful of other people in crowds, and when they can't see you it just gets worse. She found a strategy, after a while, of finding one person, and following them as long as they were going the same way. In this manner she managed to make her way to a classier part of the city. If she were going to steal anyway, she might as well steal something good.

Her strategy, once she'd found a dark corner in which she could suddenly be seen, was to walk in as a normal customer, trying to keep her head down, and stay unnoticed. She would pick up a piece of clothing, go to the changing rooms, and never be seen again. Her invisibility, the scientists had discovered, sort of radiated from her body. In effect this meant that anything touching her bare skin when she chose to become invisible also became hidden from the naked eye. Which was useful. Very useful. It did limit the number of layers of clothing she could wear, and she had had to give up on socks in shoes, but it was none the less a step up from having to walk about naked, like H.G. Wells' Doctor Griffin. Why this was the scientists had apparently discovered, but they had neglected to hell her. She assumed it was in a report somewhere. Truthfully she didn't much care exactly why it worked, so long as it did.

Having stolen herself some proper clothes in this manner, she managed to find some person silly enough to not watch his wallet. Luckily no one in the vicinity noticed the floating, cash filled object. After finding a convenient dark corner to appear in without too many prying eyes, she emerged, counting the notes of a, she checked, Mr. J. Drake. Mr. Drake, it appeared, was a firm believer in cash over credit card, something she was grateful for. With new vigor and a feeling of wealth, her spree of crime turned into one of shopping. As she kept remembering things she had missed, both on the island and prior to that in the mutant holding facility, she filled a large shopping bag with items. She was almost back at the hotel when a thought struck her, and she bought some food and water as well. She had seen the sink in the room, and did not trust it.

When she entered the room, Toad mumbled something about bloody women, and how Mystique never was this weird. She tossed the bag with food at him, and he shut up. The sky that could be dimly seen through the window had begun to darken, she noticed, after unpacking. Toad followed her gaze, and sat up.

"If you're finished stockpilin' for the apocalypse, I think we should head out. We got a lot of bars to cover. 'Ow's your alcohol tolerance?"

_Author's note: The next chapter might take a while. I think I'm going to have to actually plan it out and stuff, and not just write as I go along. But the quality'll be higher for it, I hope. On another note, I realize that I actually visualize Max from Hellbinders a lot of the time when writing Toad's dialogue. I mean,when it comes to pronunciation and occasionally word choice. But hey, all Ray Park's roles have the same accent, how wrong can I go? I also want to say thanks to you guys who've been kind enough to leave me reviews. It makes me a happy little shameless fan girl._


	7. And Chapter 7

The bar was not in any way special, or different from the last few they had visited. The lighting was bad, the smell worse. It was a heavy mix of sweat, smoke, perfume and spilled beer with just a hint of a reminder coming through the open door that the toilet was out of order. Music was playing loud enough for conversations to have to be shouted. At several of the small, round tables people were playing cards, and angry and indignant shouting erupted from one of them every few minutes. Suspiciously regularly, in fact, as a hooded figure in the corner had noted.

The beer Toad was nursing was getting too warm for his taste, and still there was no sign of the target. There were plenty of dodgy conmen, but all of them were human so far. And they had been here long enough to make certain the target was not going to show, he could tell by the state of mind of the girl. He gave the empty glasses in front her an annoyed look, but she didn't notice. She seemed to be fascinated by the conversation between two women at an adjacent table. They evidently weren't going to make any progress here. He emptied his glass, and grabbed her arm.

"We're leaving. Now."

She giggled a little, but followed him willingly enough. The air outside was hot and humid, and not as refreshing after the interior of the bar as he had hoped. Still, it was outside air, if not the fresh kind. The street was surprisingly quiet. There were no cars driving by, but then he assumed most of the people who were awake at this hour probably weren't in any condition to drive. There were a few groups of rather too drunk people walking unsteadily in groups, but they weren't the talkative kind. The way they walked, that slow, unsteady gait, made him think of zombies. And although he quickly disregarded this theory, he remained somewhat uneasy. It was a Saturday night, there ought to be more people, more noise. Unless, of course, there was something about this neighborhood he didn't know. He tried to ignore the feeling, and kept walking.

"We- Where're we going now? New bar, right?"

"Back to the room."

"Why? This is fun..."

If Toad had been the kind of person who pinched his nose in irritation, and possibly while at it cleaned his glasses as well, he would have. Instead he looked at her, eyes narrowed and his face an expression of incredulity. There was obviously something wrong with this one.

"D'you think this is about 'aving fun? D'you think this mission is jus' an excuse for you to get drunk on Magneto's money and act like a fuckin' idiot?"

She looked at him, brow furrowed in concentration as she seemed to deliberate her answer carefully.

"Yeeees?"

He sighed, and walked on. This was going to be a long stake out.

.

It felt good to be drunk again. It had been far too many years since last time. It felt nice to be able to choose what dodgy stuff to put in her body again. Freeing, somehow. And yet that wasn't the only thing. She had gotten so used to always being injected with various drugs that it felt a bit odd, having a clear head. It felt good, it mostly did, she told herself that, but it left her mind free to begin all sorts of pondering. The pondering wasn't good. The pondering wound up leading to incomplete memories, hazy pictures, and a sort of awful realization that she had completely and utterly wasted four years of her life. Not voluntarily, of course, but still. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. So she would enjoy the alcohol infecting her blood for the moment, though her companion seemed less than thrilled. He had explained to her in detail why she should absolutely in no way be drunk when they were on mission, and he had threatened to send Sabretooth on her, but it had been little use. She wasn't in a mood to be yelled at. Or at least, not in a mood to listen.

She stared dreamily into space as she walked, occasionally stumbling over discarded beer bottles, and was rather startled when she was violently yanked into an alley. Toad motioned to her to not move with a somewhat threatening glance. She opened her mouth to ask what all this was, but a hand clamped over it. It was an oddly cool and dry hand, considering the weather. She looked questioningly at him. He pointed out of the alley, towards a figure across the street. It was a man, a young man. He was wearing some sort of long, brownish coat. His skin looked tanned, and his hair was brown, and there was something faintly wrong with his eyes, which Claudia couldn't put her finger on from this distance. The young man appeared to be carrying some sort of long stick which he seemed to fold away as he reached a darkened storefront. He looked around, but didn't seem to notice them, and started fiddling with something in front of the door. Claudia turned away for a moment, then, to silently ask Toad why they appeared to be watching a common robbery. His brow was furrowed in confusion, or possibly concentration, she couldn't tell. They shone yellow in the light of the lamp posts, as did his skin. For a moment his face looked almost like a human face in yellow light. Well, not quite. A small reflection of purple appeared, and grew. In her somewhat slowed state of mind, she didn't react quickly enough to turn around actually see the small explosion.

"Wh-" she began to ask, but was quickly silenced by a rapidly drying lump of slime landing over her mouth. Toad gave her a somewhat apologetic look, as he used both hands to fiddle with something that looked like a ridiculously complicated camera. He held it up, and captured film of the coated gentleman as he entered the now severely damaged store and began to rummage around in something unseen. Toad kept the camera running for a few minutes whilst the man presumably moved around the store, and followed him with it after he emerged, until the man disappeared into an alley. He clicked it off and slid it into a pocket before turning to Claudia. She angrily moved the upper half of her face in ways meant to imply threats. Somehow he seemed less than terrified. He did remove the slime, though, with a quick punch which somehow managed to break off the slime without knocking out her teeth. She rubbed her face gingerly, trying to massage out the numbness.

"That is _so_ disgusting. That stuff got in my _mouth_!"

"'Ow d'you think I feel all the bloody time," he retorted. She had no acceptable come back to that. "Did your tiny brain manage to notice that our target just used 'is powers right in front of us?"

"Yu-"

"Didn't think so, nah. But 'e did, and we're goin' after 'im. But no' tonight."

.

They got back to the motel without incident. The girl in the reception, a blonde, bored looking twentysomething, frowned at them as they walked past, but a threatening glance from Toad kept her from commenting. Their room was warm and stuffy and had, as far as he could see, not been disturbed. Good. He didn't think anyone would actually bother going through it, but he still made a habit of checking every time he went out. When he had made absolutely sure several tiny objects strewn around the room had not in anyway been moved, he opened a window. Turning on all possible light, he hopped onto his bed and waited expectantly for the snacks to start flying in. There were some perks to being this far south. As he crouched there, catching the various insects foolish enough to enter on his tongue, he noticed Claudia watching him intently.

"Wot?" he asked, giving her a stare that might have been menacing had not a fly been stuck in the corner of his mouth. He knew people found his habit of eating both insects and other things disgusting, but that didn't keep him from finding free snacks. It didn't quite keep him from being annoyed at their revulsion, either, although he told himself it didn't matter. No one was going to think particularly well of him anyway, he reasoned, so there was no point in him repressing some of his less appealing traits. He could and did eat normal food, of course he did. Anything else would be stupid and impractical. There was something, though, about catching a living being and feeling it die as his diminutive teeth crunched its exoskeleton. It tasted satisfying.

"Are you cold blooded?" she asked then, confusing his train of thought. That was an oddly moralistic question coming from a drunken escapee from the federal government. He frowned, giving his answer some thought.

"S'pose you could say so, yeah. The X-Men certainly do. I mean, it's no' as if I don't _'ave_ a conscience, it just isn't very active... I-"

"No, I mean, like physically," she interrupted, "biologically. Like toads are."

The question again took him by some surprise. Was he? While it was true that he was rather bad at regulating his body temperature in any sensible way, and that he got extraordinarily sleepy on cold winter days, he didn't think so. Not quite, anyway.

"Just curious... I tried reading some of those really dull, sciency books on mutation back at headquarters. They're ridiculously boring, but what the- what they say about the different kinds of mutations is kinda interesting. All that stuff an originally human body somehow suddenly can do... It's kinda awesome."

He cocked his head at her, and wondered for a moment whether she was in fact five years old. Her vacant gaze at the ceiling and the fluttery hand motions she used to underline her points certainly suggested that she was. That sort of wonder at the magics of mutation was certainly not what he had experienced growing up. Being yellowish green and warty was not as amazing as, say, invisibility. Especially not to little kids with rocks. He shook his head. This was not a time to be reminiscing. This was a time to be planning. He fished the recording device out of his pocket, started it up, and began to go through the targets odd breaking and entering.

_Author's note: I'm sorry this took so incredibly long. Summer and vacation and all that stuff, you know. I'll try to be faster the next time._


	8. Chapter 8

The rain was pattering on the roof, a heavy layer of white noise. It filled the air with the scent of earth and dead worms, although it was hardly noticeable compared to the pollution. The window was open at her insistence. She felt trapped in the room, even though it was only the second morning there. Toad had spent all of yesterday doing complicated things on a number of machines she didn't even know what were called. They looked like the kind of machines that had lots of letters and numbers in their names. Complicated. Apparently they had yielded some important information regarding something or other, though, because he had been gone for a few hours, on what was, apparently, none of her business. She had used the occasion to do some catching up on major world events the last four years, and upon finding that nothing of particular interest had happened, had turned to googling the X-Men. Most major news papers were fairly negative to the group. From what she could gather, they were a group of mutant youth brainwashed by some old, evil mutant into thinking that they were better than humans, and who used their powers destructively and to further mutant supremacy. A little more digging, however yielded some more positive reports. Allegedly they had on several occasions helped and saved the lives of humans. But the internet, being what it was, had varied opinions on that. She found a blog that had calculated the accumulated cost of all the destruction of private and communal property that had been caused by the X-Men's involvement. She found nothing posted by any of them anywhere, though. She found that odd. Surely, if mutants had one channel that would connect them to other mutants around the world and allow them to tell humans about them, surely that would be the internet? Surely they would use that to stop the hatred and discrimination? Apparently not. Or maybe she just wasn't looking closely enough. She scratched her chin thoughtfully, and began to peruse yet another anti X-Men blog.

A sudden noise at the door made her jump. There was a strange sound coming from it, like something metallic scratching in the lock. It sounded, at a guess, like someone poking something metallic into the lock and wriggling it about. It did not, however, sound like someone with a key. She quickly shut the laptop, and moved quietly, very quietly, to a completely empty corner of the room. She stood still and concentrated on making any and all light pass straight through her. She waited like that for a minute, maybe two. Then she heard an angry voice mumbling through the door, and a loud splintering noise as it was forcibly opened. She held her breath.

The first think that struck Claudia about the woman who with an oddly sheepish expression quietly entered was how young she looked. By her guess the woman was a few years younger than herself; just a girl. The second thing that struck her was the skin tight leather uniform she was wearing, decorated with tiny, embroidered Xs and badly concealed underneath a long coat. The girl was very pretty, with large brown eyes, clear skin and long brown hair with white bangs. She wandered over to the closed laptop, and opened it. At that point, Claudia walked slowly, quietly towards her, and picked up a lamp from the night stand.

.

They had come upon him whilst he was talking to Mags on the phone, that was how they'd managed to surprise him. You didn't not give the Master of Magnetism your full attention. He had been detailing for Toad what methods he was authorized to use when it came to dealing with the X-men, when his phone had suddenly been sliced in four, and three ugly, parallel gashes appeared on his hand. He had run then, naturally. He had run through streets and climbed buildings and hopped from one rooftop to the next, all the while trying to confuse Wolverine's sense of smell. Cyclops had been with him as well, but he didn't have the stamina to keep up, nor the daring to use his laser beam eyes as openly as he would have to if he were to shoot Toad down. He did get away, eventually, having lost the X-Men. At that point, though, he was limping, having gained three new gashes in his thigh, and he was half way across town from the motel. Wincing slightly in pain, he started the long way back.

"Wot the 'ell is this?"

He had just come to the motel, gingerly stepping over wooden splinters in the doorway. Claudia was sitting cross legged on her bed, laptop in front of her, reading something or rather. On the other bed, _his_ bed, sat a young girl who looked disturbingly familiar. She had a piece of duct tape over her mouth, and her hands were bound behind her back. Her eyes had been staring sourly at the albino across the room from her, but at his voice they turned to him, widening in terror. She made muffled sounds behind her improvised gag. Claudia looked up, a tinge of guilt in her pale, gray eyes. She bit her lip, looking uncertain. Apparently she hadn't expected him to sound angry, though what she then did expect was a mystery to him.

"Uhm..." she began eloquently. "Look, she broke in and was going through your stuff! And her uniform looks X-Menish. What was I supposed to do, let her?" She closed the laptop, and started fiddling nervously with her nails. She lowered her eyes from his, opting to stare at the floor to her left. The other girl, Rogue, as Toad recognized her as, looked a little confused, though still scared. She obviously recognized him from that... thing a few years ago. He shuddered at the thought. He hadn't quite forgiven Sabretooth for that in his mind, although it was by no means the worst he'd done, whether to human or mutant*.

"Yeah. What'd she have found, yer dirty browsin' 'istory? All the important data is safe and locked away, girlie, she wouldn't 'ave gotten anyfin' useful."

Rogue made a muffled sound, the meaning of which Toad could only guess at. He chose to assume the young mutant agreed with him, and possibly also complimented him on his eloquence and good looks. His assumptions, sadly, were seldom correct. He ran a webbed hand through his short, spiky hair. Fuck. They had to do something about the girl. He was not taking her back to headquarters again, not after what happened last time. She might be one of their enemies, but she didn't deserve that, not again.

"You 'aven't accidentally told 'er anyfin' important, 'ave you?" he said with more hope in his voice than he suspected he was entitled to.

"Of course not. I'm not that stupid, you know." Toad made a face as if to object, and she quickly continued. "I haven't told her anything, or shown her anything. I knocked her out, taped her up and let her sit there. All she's done is throw me dirty glances every time I check on her."

"Good. So, as you're new to this, I'm gonna give ya the chance to make this right. What do you suggest we do with 'er?" He said this last part suggestively, grinning at the frightened captive.

.

When Wolverine and Cyclops finally found Rogue, a few hours after the Professor reported having lost his psychic link with her, she was tied to a kitchen chair in the middle of a field. On her head was a crude replica of the helmet Magneto wore to block out telepaths. A piece of duct tape covered her hands, others bound her wrists and ankles to the chair. Stuck to her hair with a lump of hardened slime was an envelope, containing a complicated set of clues and codes. It was marked "Top secret Brotherhood location" in red marker. When they later got Beast to run it through the computers and figure it out, he eventually found some coordinates for a deserted barn in Alabama. The X-Men were not quite sure what to make of this, and what Rogue could tell them threw little light upon the matter.

.

They had left the mainland in a hurry after dumping Rogue. Toad had gotten a hold of Magneto again, and had told him that their target had been working along with the X-Men, in what was presumably a set up. He had ordered them back to the island, and they had obeyed. As they flew, Claudia looked out of the window, admiring the sea. It was consistently blue, and the sun reflecting off it made her eyes hurt. She saw a few sea gulls perched on a lonely rock, and took this to mean they were getting close. It had been a long flight, and a silent one, at least when it came to conversation. There had been an odd exchange of looks when Toad first entered the motel room, she had noticed. The girl, Rogue, apparently, had looked terrified at the sight of him. It couldn't be his odd looks, Claudia was certain of that. Surely a member of the X-Men would be used to such oddities. She had seen on a blog the the X-Men were rumored to have as much as two members who were both blue and furry. No, it had definitely been recognition. She would definitely have to ask them about it when they landed and the damned copter stopped drilling into her brain with sound.

_Author's note: I'm trying to cut back on the words _somewhat _and _ somehow_. Not sure how well I'm doing, but I've noticed I used those a bit too much. Also, my chapters have been getting shorter. Good/bad? Tell me? Just trying to concentrate the action a bit more. And yeah, I wussed out on adding Gambit. Was unsure what he'd do to the dynamic, and I'm also not really that familiar with him. I could probably write his dialog, but I'm not interested enough to research anything but his beard. That is cool, though.  
><em>

_*For details see my Rogue & Sabretooth oneshot _Untouchable. _Toad's reasoning might make less sense if you don't at least skim it, I think._


End file.
